


Love in Times of War

by Sermocinare



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Fluff, World War I, please pardon any historical inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2661086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sermocinare/pseuds/Sermocinare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very strange way of proving that he is once again fit for combat brings Lt. Enjolras and nurse Éponine closer together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love in Times of War

“Mademoiselle!”

Éponine stopped in her tracks, setting the metal bowl in which she had been collecting the dirty, blood-stained dressings aside before turning around to face the young man who had called out to her. 

“Do you need anything, Lieutenant...?”

She hadn't been able to memorize the names of all the new patients in the ward yet, but she was sure she wouldn't forget this one's easily. Even though he was laying in a hospital bed, his leg splinted and wrapped up in bandages, he still seemed to carry the aura of the battle around him. 

“Enjolras,” the Lieutenant said. “Please, can you tell me when I might re-join my battalion?”

Éponine blinked in disbelief and shook her head: “Lieutenant Enjolras, you have just been through surgery to remove several pieces of shrapnel from your lower leg. You're lucky that you still have need of two boots, and you're asking me when you can go out there and fight again?” 

Enjolras set his jaw, giving her an almost defiant glare: “Is there something wrong with wanting to continue the fight for your country?”

“No,” Éponine replied, shaking her head again, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, “it's just that usually, our patients aren't that eager to get back to the front lines when they've been through something like that. Eventually, yes, but not right away.”

The looked at each other for a moment, and something in that bright, fiery gaze caused Éponine to nod, instead of telling the Lieutenant to put his mind on other, more important things like his recovery: “But I'll ask.”

Enjolras gave her a small nod in return, his features softening again until he was smiling at her: “Thank you, Mademoiselle. May I ask your name?”

“I am nurse Thénardier. But you may call me Éponine.”

–

“He cannot be serious about that. I am sure he was joking.”

Éponine chuckled: “While I admit to M. Joly sometimes showing a strange sense of humor, he explicitly told me that yes, this was the criteria for you being released from the ward.”

Enjolras gave her a look that was somewhere between disbelief and shock: “I am to lead you in a dance down the entire length of the ward?”

“Yes,” Éponine replied, and her chuckle turned into an outright giggle, “that's what he said. Three times, since I didn't believe him either.”

“Dear God,” Enjolras groaned, letting himself fall back into the pillows, “what kind of hospital did I land in?”

“Only the best army hospital our country has to offer, Lieutenant.”

“Which I won't dispute, even though it seems to be run by madmen. But,” here, he gave Éponine a small smile, “the nurses make up for that.”

“All right,” Éponine said, crossing her arms and giving Enjolras a stern look, or as stern as possible after that comment, “what do you want? Because one of the first things a nurse learns is that the patients always flirt when they want something.”

Enjolras had the good graces to look at least a little rueful: “Your education was very thorough in all aspects, I see. Could you try and get me some of my books that were left behind with my battalion?”

“I'll see what I can do. But if I do, Lieutenant,” Éponine said with a grin, “I expect you to be a model patient.”

“Quid pro quo, Mademoiselle.”

–

“I see you are keeping to your promise.”

Éponine put the glass of water down on the small table next to Enjolras' bed and pulled up a chair. The Lieutenant had been true to his word, following every order and suggestion the doctors and nurses had regarding his recovery. A recovery which had taken quite some strides, judging from the color that had returned to Enjolras' cheeks and the upswing in his mood. 

While still ever fierce and fiery as the sun, Éponine had come to see, and love, the Lieutenant's quieter, gentler side. Though of course she kept the bit about love strictly to herself, to the late hours of the night where they belonged, not the light of day. Falling in love with a patient was a silly thing, especially in a war such as this, which took the lives of young men like a reaper cutting down stalks of corn.

“Though you could have chosen some lighter reading for your sickbed,” Éponine continued with a smile. “Did you have aspirations to be a lawyer? Before this?”

“Oh yes,” Enjolras said, putting the book down, “and I still do. Once this war is over and won, I will return to my studies.”

“You seem awfully sure of that. The winning.”

“The republic will prevail, Éponine. She always does.”

Éponine couldn't help a good-natured laugh: “You have enough patriotism in you for the whole ward.”

Enjolras just shrugged. “So tell me,” he said, the book still resting on his lap, “what motivated you to become a nurse? Did you already hold this profession before the war broke out?”

Éponine shook her head, and pulled at a strand of hair that had fallen out of her bun: “No. I didn't know what I wanted. Except, well, out.” Catching Enjolras' questioning gaze, she went on, her voice low: “There aren't that many possibilities for a young woman from my background. And I didn't want to end up married to some drunk like my mother. When I saw the signs calling for women to be educated as nurses for the care of the many wounded, I knew it was my chance.”

Enjolras looked at her in silence for a while, then smiled and reached out to squeeze her hand: “I am glad you took that chance. Not just because everyone is needed in this, but because you are a wonderful nurse.”

–

“Doctor, if you would please start the music? After all, this was your idea in the first place.”

Laughing quietly, Joly put the needle down on the record, and immediately, a soft, slow tune wafted through the ward. 

Enjolras smiled at Éponine, gave a slight bow, and reached out for her hand: “If you would do me the favor?”

“Of course.” Éponine could only hope she wasn't blushing. She knew that she would never hear the end of it if she did, not with half the staff watching. 

Gently placing his hand on her waist, Enjolras gave her another smile: “I apologize for any injury I might cause your toes. I'm afraid I wasn't a very good dancer even before my leg got pierced by shrapnel.”

“Oh, don't worry,” Éponine said hastily, her eyes darting over to where the other nurses were standing before settling on Enjolras'. “If someone's toes are in danger, it's yours. I never learned how to dance.”

In the end, they did manage to cross the entirety of the ward without stepping on each others' toes, though Éponine was sure that their little dance ranked pretty low on the overall elegance scale. Once they were finished, Enjolras let go of her waist and bowed to press a kiss onto the back of Éponine's hand.

“It was a pleasure, Mademoiselle.”

\--

“I hope you are happy that you can now rejoin your fellow soldiers.”

Enjolras was standing at the side of his bed, dressed in his uniform, the car that was to drive him back to his battalion waiting outside of the hospital.

“I am,” Enjolras said, “although there is one thing I will miss about being an invalid.”

“Oh?” Éponine could feel her stomach flutter a little, but tried to force herself to calm down.

Enjolras smiled and took her hand in his: “Yes. I will have to make do without your care and your company now.” Inclining his head to the side a bit, he tightened his grip a little: “Éponine, may I write to you? That way, I won't have to miss you all the time.”

“Of course,” Éponine replied, a smile lighting up her face, “and I will write to you, too. Maybe, after all of this is over, we will see each other again?”

“I'm sure of that.” Enjolras smiled and gave her a short wink: “And I do get leave now and then...”

\--

_Dear Éponine,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I admit that part of the reason I am writing to you already is a purely selfish one – thinking of you makes me smile, and there is not much to smile about out here._

_We do try our best to keep up our spirits, and I count myself lucky to be surrounded by men whom I have come to think of as my friends. I think you would like them._

_Apparently, someone has been spreading the tale about the curious conditions which were tied to my return, and there has been a lot of guesswork as to your identity. So far, I am keeping them guessing, both because it provides some distraction and because somehow, I want to keep you to myself alone for a little while longer._

_I must go now, but I hope to hear from you soon._

_Yours,  
Alexandre Enjolras_

_PS: So much for secrecy. I did not get around to sealing this letter right away, and M. Courfeyrac has no regards for such things as privacy._

\--

_Dear Alexandre,_

_please don't ever apologize for writing me. You can write to me every day, twice, if you like. Thinking of you makes me smile, too, and takes my mind off everything here._

_I never would have guessed that soldiers like to gossip as much as nurses. And let me tell you, there's absolutely no way I could have kept your letter private around here. As soon as I opened it, I had two of the others standing at my shoulder. You've made an impression._

_Thinking of you,  
Éponine_

–

Éponine was standing on the steps at the train station, busily looking over the throngs of people emerging from the train, trying to spot Enjolras' golden locks among the mass of soldiers and civilians pushing their way up and down the platform. 

And then he was standing besides her, removing his cap before taking her hand and kissing it: “Éponine. I'm so glad you could come.”

“What have you done to your hair?!”

Enjolras blinked, then ran a hand over head and through his considerably shortened hair: “I cut it.”

“I can see that. But why? I really liked it the way it was.”

“It got in the way.” Giving her an apologetic smile, Enjolras continued: “I hope you will still agree to spend the day with me.”

“Of course I will,” Éponine said, laughing. “I'm sorry. I was just a bit shocked.”

Enjolras gave a low chuckle: “I promise that the rest of the day will pass without any more unpleasant surprises. Shall we?” With that, he donned his cap again and held out his arm for Éponine to to take. As soon as she had tucked her arm underneath his, he continued: “Is there anywhere you would like to go first?”

“Anywhere is fine.”

“Then we'll find a nice café to sit in. I miss having proper coffee. And cake.”

Éponine smiled up at Enjolras: “I didn't think you'd have a sweet tooth.”

“Oh, you'll see, I'm full of surprises.”

–

“So, tell me, how have you been? How are things at the hospital? I feel as if in our letters, I'm always the one doing the talking,” Enjolras inquired after his first bite of cake.

Éponine gave him a half-smile and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes wandering over the couples and families that were sitting at their tables around them. 

“Well,” she started, poking at her cake with her fork, “to be honest, I never really feel at ease with a pen. I didn't really go to school much. I mean, I can read and write all right, else I'd never been able to become a nurse, but it always feels a bit... hm...”

“Alien?” 

“Yes. That's it.” 

Enjolras gave her a warm smile: “I guess this means that I get to hear your voice more, since you'll always have more news to talk about than me. Not that I don't imagine your voice when I'm reading your letters.”

Éponine laughed, then speared another bite of cake: “So, what would you like to know?”

“Hm, let's see... have you danced with any other patients, or did Dr. Joly invent that test of health solely for me?”

“Why, is that a hint of jealousy I detect?” Éponine said, giving Enjolras a flirtatious smile. And really, she didn't mind that in the least. Enjolras getting jealous at the thought of her dancing with another man was flattering. “Don't worry. You've been my only dance partner.”

“Then I can rest easy.”

“But what about you? Any other girls you're taking out to little cafés?”

“No.” There was an adorable earnestness in Enjolras' features as he went on: “In fact, you're the first one who isn't in some way related to me.”

“You're kidding me.” The thought that Enjolras hadn't taken anyone on a date before was almost unbelievable, at least to Éponine. 

Enjolras just shrugged and stirred his coffee: “I had other things on my mind.”

“And now you don't?”

“Oh, I do. But...” for a moment, Enjolras looked out of the window, his brow furrowing slightly, then he turned his attention back on Éponine: “the war, being injured, and most of all you, with your kindness, courage and strength, the way you fight for your life and that of others, it made me think. I used to think of love as a distraction, something that steers you away from the ideals you want to achieve. I was wrong.” 

Enjolras reached across the table, taking Éponine's hand: “Thinking of you, of seeing you again, is what keeps me going, even when all I see around me is bleakness and death.”

For a few seconds, Éponine just looked at Enjolras. Unlike him, she had dated before, but no one had every said anything that came close to that. No one had ever told her she was their reason to keep going. And certainly not on a first date. 

Éponine opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Opened it again, running a hand over her hair: “I really don't know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything.”

Damn that man. Full of surprises indeed. But he was right, she didn't have to say anything. Instead, she gripped Enjolras' hand tighter and pulled him towards her, until he was close enough for her to lean over the table and kiss him. On the edge of her mind, she could hear a few gasps from around them, but to hell with that. She'd never been one for sticking to what was proper. 

When they broke apart, Éponine couldn't help but smile at Enjolras' still somewhat surprised face: “I guess you're not the only one who's full of surprises.”

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not continue this, depending on if I get inspired on how to bring it to the inevitable conclusion of Enjolras asking her hand in marriage. Not promising anything, though.


End file.
